Archive of Our Own

Jotaro was stewing on his bed in his room. His and Kakyoin’s. And that was the issue. Kakyoin.

He was never one to care what people thought about him—at least, after his growth spurt he wasn’t. When he was lanky, his quietness let him be ignored, and he was fine with that (really), but his quietness became mistaken for haughtiness the moment he put on muscle. People began whispering about him in the halls, girls flocked after him, and boys fought with him to prove that Kujo Jotaro wasn’t worth all that.

After the first time he cut his mouth open from needles hidden in homemade chocolates, he learned not to accept gifts from his classmates. After the second time he was led into an isolated spot and jumped, he learned to fight, to not trust anyone.

He didn’t mind. He wasn’t lonely. He had his mom. And that tiny stray cat at the corner of that one street that always walked him home. Or maybe it only followed him because he fed it when he got back home. Wait, if he was here, who was going to feed it? It was so small—could it hunt for itself? Or did he ruin its survival instincts by feeding it so often? He didn’t know that much about the behavior of stray cats. Kakyoin would probably know—

Jotaro frowned. He sat up and fixed his hat on his head.

‘Right. Kakyoin,’ he thought.

Kakyoin was his first friend. His first friend in a while (he was pretty sure he’d made friends before). Kakyoin, Polnareff, and Abdul (he refused to count his grandpa as a friend). All of them were the first friends he made in a while. Maybe that was why he li—why Kakyoin was always bumping around his head so much. That was why he sat next to him more or wanted to explore the towns they visited with him or go get lunch together with just him. He was his first friend in a while.

And Kakyoin was quiet. Abdul could be quiet, too, but an adult who was quiet wasn’t the same as someone in his grade who was quiet and wasn’t scared of him. And Kakyoin understood him. Kakyoin didn’t mind when he didn’t respond verbally when he was talking or when he wanted to sit in silence or that one time they saw a pod of whales when they were on the boat and he had rambled on and on about them and instead of getting annoyed or weirded out Kakyoin just smiled (and Jotaro had thought he wouldn’t mind studying that smile the same way he had been studying the whales sailing past them).

Jotaro inhaled sharply, a hand coming to cover his mouth. His eyes trembled.

“Fuck…” he muttered. He didn’t, he didn’t like Kakyoin that way, did he? They were just friends—they were friends, right? Was he friends with any of them? They’d only known each other for a few weeks, after all, and as much as he trusted them with his life, were they friends? Polnareff got along with everyone despite how Polnareff he was; Abdul had no problem switching personas depending on who he was talking to; and Kakyoin was the charming, polite, smart boy next door he always heard other boys complaining about or girls pining for. And Jotaro…he…he was cool. Right? He tried to be was cool.

But…he wouldn’t complain if he had a fraction of his grandpa’s charm, because as much as he gave his old man flack, people still gravitated towards him. Were they actually related? People didn’t gravitate towards him the same way they did towards his grandpa. He got stuck with weirdos and sycophants and dick-measurers and his grandpa got useful people. Like Abdul. Polnareff didn’t really join because of him—he joined their journey in return for being saved and because he wanted to avenge his sister, not because he wanted to be friends. And Kakyoin…he joined because of his mom. Even bedridden, she still possessed more charm than he did. Was he adopted?

Jotaro shook his head.

No, that was stupid. They all had the same star birthmark. Then was he sort of charming? Did that mean he was sort of friends with the others? He didn’t want to be sort of friends, especially not with Kakyoin. What did he want with Kakyoin? Well…he wanted more quiet walks through town or lunches where Kakyoin talked his ear off about something interesting and threw in the occasional joke because Kakyoin liked to try and make him smile or laugh for some reason. He wanted to go in a cable car with the real Kakyoin and erase the memories of that fake one. He wanted to try new foods together with him and hear the random, obscure facts he had about everything and hear that silly laugh of his and buy him cherries because he always smiled prettily whenever Jotaro gave him something and maybe hold his h—

Jotaro stood up abruptly. This wasn’t…this wasn’t—did he actually? He stomped over to the door and threw it open. Star Platinum’s hand stopped it from shattering against the wall. His Stand grabbed the room key he left on the nightstand and locked the door for him, depositing the key in his pocket once it finished with its task.

He stormed down the hotel hallway, hands balled into fists in his pocket. This felt…bigger than him. He should probably talk to someone. His mom always told him to talk to someone whenever he was confused about something (and he listened, it was just that he talked with his fists most of the time). Should he talk to Polnareff? He heard Paris was the city of love and that France was full of romantics—he’d seen enough of Polnareff’s flirting and pandering throughout the trip to feel confident in that rumor.

‘But…’ Jotaro paused outside of Polnareff’s door, his hand mid-knock. ‘He’s a big loudmouth.’

Let alone the rest of the crusaders or DIO—Jotaro wouldn’t be surprised if what he told Polnareff would get back to Grandma Suzie all the way in New York. He couldn’t risk it.

He turned on his heel and stomped away. No, stalked away. Gracefully and calmly and under control. But he still didn’t have anyone to talk to. His grandpa’s dopey, grinning face popped in his mind. Jotaro’s scowl deepened. He didn’t want to talk to him.

‘Shit,’ he thought. He ended up in front of his grandpa’s room anyway. Travelling across the world with his old man made him really lose respect for him, not that he ever thought he was cool or anything. And he did not want to be in any manner of vehicle with him. Especially planes.

Still, like an itch that wouldn’t go away, he could picture the times when he was below his old man’s knee and his hair wasn’t so grey. Times when he thought his grandpa was the funnest and coolest person in the world. His grandpa would pick him up, twirl him around, and throw him through the air like a baseball. He somehow always ran faster than he threw him, always there to catch Jotaro before he hit the ground. Or the times he had made Jotaro’s hair stand up as if it were charged with electricity or walk along the walls and ceiling with him in his arms (he knew now that it was done with Hamon).

And as adrenaline-filled as those moments were, the one that stuck out to him the most was the time his family had gone to Venice for vacation with his grandpa and grandma. His grandpa snuck him out of some stuffy meeting or event or whatever—Jotaro remembered being dressed like a little sailor boy—and they ate street food that was surprisingly spicy and tasty and his grandpa got him ice cream after to soothe his tongue. Gelato. Two, no, three, scoops on a cone. They sat on the edge of a fountain in the middle of a plaza. There were a lot of people walking about and it should’ve been loud but all Jotaro could remember was the steady burbling of the fountain behind him, the chirping of birds looking for food, and the warmth of the sun on his face and his grandpa beside him.

His old man wasn’t cool anymore but…

Jotaro swallowed his hesitation and knocked. The door opened after a moment. His old man’s eyes widened slightly.

“Jotaro? Is everything alright?” He asked. “There hasn’t been another Stand attack, has there?”

He couldn’t open his mouth. What was he thinking? His grandpa acted strangely about the weirdest things and he was going to ask him about his feelings inner turmoil? No no no. What was he thinking trying to tell anyone? Even if Kakyoin liked him back…they couldn’t walk around Japan holding hands. It’d be frowned upon. His mom would be shunned and he couldn’t do that to her when he was already a delinquent  a disappointment she tried so hard to get acclimatized to Japan. But…maybe they could move to New York? They were more open-minded there, right? His mom wouldn’t mind being closer to her parents, who cared about his dad, and New York would be interesting enough for Kakyoin—what was he thinking?!?!?!?!!

“Jotaro?” A warm hand landed on his shoulder. His grandpa looked concerned and Abdul was watching from over his shoulder.

Jotaro shrugged his hand off. “It’s nothing, old man. Just making sure no one’s dead.”

“Ah. Did you check on Polnareff already?” His grandpa asked.

Jotaro scowled and stormed away with a “good grief” muttered under his breath.

“O-Oi, Jotaro! I’ll be back, Abdul!”

‘I almost did something irreversibly stupid,’ Jotaro thought. His nails dug into his palms. What if he told his grandpa and he…he was…disgusted? What if he split them apart? Or sent Kakyoin home? He’d be picked off on his own—what if he sent him home? Or checked him into some institution? He’d heard about those and what they did there to people who were different. Would he never see his family again? He could bust out with Star Platinum but then people would think he was violent and dangerous and they’ll put his name out for arrest and his mom would die of heartbreak instead of DIO’s stupid curse—

“Jotaro.”

Jotaro blinked. His grandpa was in front of him, holding out a cup of ice cream, two scoops. One was chocolate-colored with nuts in it. The other was white. Vanilla? Plain, basic, vanilla? And no fucking sprinkles?! Jotaro’s lips ticked downwards but he accepted it anyway (when did he end up outside? where were they?). His grandpa had a cup of the same thing.

“Come,” his grandpa said, walking away. After a moment, Jotaro followed him. Maybe it was because he had been thinking about the past, but it felt like he was six again, following his grandpa around. Back then, he had pretty much been hugging his grandpa’s leg as he walked beside him; his grandpa would hold his hand and whenever he got tired of reaching up, his grandpa would let go of his hand and gently hold the back of his neck, his thumb brushing against the nape of his neck.

Jotaro scratched his neck. “What are we doing here, Gramps?”

They were at a bench at the edge of a bustling market. A group of children were running around a small spring. He could hear the clucking of chickens. His grandpa sat down and patted the empty space next to him. Jotaro sat down.

“You seem like you have a lot on your mind,” his grandpa said, “I know you’re a strong kid, Jotaro, but you’re still a kid. If there’s anything on your mind, you can talk to me. That’s what your grandpa is here for, after all, hahaha!”

Jotaro stared at the ice cream. Telling him would be a bad idea—Jotaro flinched. A hand was at the back of his neck, gently scratching his nape.

“I know you don’t really like to be touched, but sometimes we need a little encouragement. You’re doing great, Jotaro. Holly would be proud of you if she knew how you’re handling yourself. I know I’m proud of you,” his grandpa said before removing his hand.

Jotaro’s neck tingled. His eyes tingled. His mom liked to do that to his neck, too. He had thought it was because she couldn’t reach the top of his head anymore but maybe it was a habit she picked up. “Shut up, Gramps,” Jotaro bit out.

“Man, I still don’t know how you turned out like that,” his grandpa sighed, “It must be that no-good Japanese father of yours… eh? Jotaro, your ice cream is melting! It’s too hot out here to just let it sit!”

It was melting. The vanilla was melting into the other ice cream and he could feel a light layer of condensation forming on the cup. He let something else get condensation on it recently, too. It was a drink, wasn’t it? He’d gotten lunch with Kakyoin and he couldn’t remember what he had been eating but he hadn’t really liked the drink and he let it sit and the ice melted and then it was really undrinkable so all he could do was watch droplets form and run down the glass and then sizzle away on the table until Kakyoin gave him his drink. It was some type of tea with a bold, warm, earthy flavor with a hint of something floral. It was sweet and cool and he had felt so so hot drinking it.

“I think I like Kakyoin,” Jotaro blurted out. And then he froze. He wanted to disappear. He couldn’t even look at his grandpa—what was going to happen to him? Was he going to get institutionalized? Was he going to be sent home? Was Kakyoin going to be sent home? That wouldn’t be fair—it wasn’t his fault.

“Oh my god! Is that why you smile so much around him?” His grandpa gasped.

Despite how impossible it was, Jotaro tried to shrink himself down until he disappeared or collapsed on himself and created a black hole to get rid of everything. (he smiled a lot around Kakyoin?)

“Jotaro?” A hand was on his neck again, as gentle and comforting as ever. “It’s okay, at least you have decent taste. Kakyoin has a good head on his shoulders and he can defend himself—oh shit, are you worried because he’s Japanese? I don’t actually hate the Japanese, I just don’t like your good-for-nothing father—J-Jotaro? A-Are you laughing? I think we need to get you out of the heat!”

He was laughing.

Jotaro threw his head back and laughed like he hadn’t in a while. What was he expecting from his silly grandpa? His laughter subsided. The hand on his neck was gone again (he sort of missed it).

“You…don’t mind?” He asked, side-eyeing his grandpa.

His grandpa’s eyes widened, then they softened until it made him uncomfortable from how tender it made him feel.

“Tch, don’t look at me like that,” Jotaro scowled, staring determinedly at the ground.

“Hahaha….well…before Suzie, there was someone else,” his grandpa said slowly, “I was about your age, cocky, brash, and just as handsome as ever.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes.

“Back then, I found Suzie just as pretty and lovable as I do now. I thought it was love at first sight, you know? But…as you get older, you realize things like that don’t exist. Oh, I’m not saying I didn’t like her then, cause I liked her a whole lot and even more now, but I only know what loving someone feels like because of him.

“And, in the grand scheme of things, we didn't know each other for that long, but we were pretty much joined at the hip for the brief time we spent together. Oh, that’s right, I never told you—your old man here was the bastion of the world in his youth! Me, him, and my mother.”

“My great grandma? She was a fighter?” Jotaro asked. What were they fighting? It didn’t sound like a traditional war.

His grandpa let out a hearty laugh. “One of the very best. She was our Hamon teacher and I didn’t like her all that much at the time, but I wouldn’t be alive without her. Or him. He…His name was Caesar Zeppeli and he was one annoying Italian casanova. He always acted as if he was better than me just because he started learning Hamon earlier and cause he flirted with anything that moved.

“Oh, and he wouldn’t stop correcting my pronunciation for everything—did I mention we were training in Venice?—so I made it a point to butcher every single word I ever said in Italian. He assumed I was hopeless and gave up on trying to correct me, but I was studying in secret so I could surprise him. Suzie would lend me books and help me practice my conversational skills in the evenings.”

Jotaro stared at the water gushing out of the ground, the children flickering in and out of focus in his gaze. It was easier to look at the water than at his grandpa, who he had never heard sound so vulnerable in his entire life. The wind and the sounds of the market filled the long (awkward tense uncomfortable) silence around them.

“I think some part of me knew already,” his grandpa finally continued, “Knew that what I felt for him was more than anything I could put into words. I was always pestering him to get his attention, needling him for information about himself, and coming up with any excuse to get in his space…but I never admitted it to myself until it was too late.”

The next bout of silence felt heavy. Jotaro wanted to scowl at his ice cream (it wasn’t its fault but he didn’t want it in the first place). All he wanted was advice from his grandpa and instead he got saddled with an unpleasant, depressing story. He did not c—oh shit he could end up like that.

“You know, Jotaro, I never had that much of an appreciation for good gelato until he took me around town. These are some of the flavors he loved to pick. He always said a good vanilla gelato is a life-changing experience and bacio was always one of his favorites,” his grandpa said

‘...Bacio?’ Jotaro thought, finally putting a scoop of the bacio to his mouth, and then the vanilla.

The ice cream was just ice cream. The bacio had a nice chocolatey hazelnut flavor but it wasn’t anything special, and the vanilla was just vanilla. It would’ve been a million times better if there were sprinkles on it.

“It’s not that great, old man,” Jotaro huffed. He’d finish it, though. It wasn’t bad, at least, and in this heat, he wasn’t going to say no to something cold.

His grandpa laughed again. “Yeah, this doesn’t taste the same as the one I had with him. I guess I have no choice but to take you to Italy again when this is all over. Can’t have you be uneducated about real gelato.”

The way his grandpa said the last words, the tinges of an unfamiliar accent curling around them, was almost like someone else was saying them through him.

“What happened to him? Zeppeli?” Jotaro asked.

“...he died.”

Jotaro shoved more of the gelato in his mouth and decided it was the most delicious gelato he ever had.

His grandpa laughed again. “You don’t have to act like that, kid. It’s been years.”

‘You’re not acting like it’s been years,’ Jotaro thought, and that was scary to him. How much had his grandpa loved  cared for (no, it must’ve been love to be entrenched in his being so deeply) loved that man to still feel his absence decades later? Were there some wounds that even time couldn’t heal?

“Do you think I should tell him, then?” Jotaro blurted out, “K-Kakyoin?”

He immediately wanted to take the words back after he said them, but the world kept turning. His grandpa mixed around his gelato contemplatively; it was almost empty while Jotaro’s was still half-full. He scooped up another spoonful.

“Hmm…that depends. Are you okay with living to regret it?”

Jotaro was tired of putting his foot in his mouth so he didn’t respond. He was resolved to finish his gelato and lock himself up in his hotel room until he could forget this ever happened and they continued on their journey and beat DIO and saved his mom and he could return back home and go to school again like normal (he never thought he’d be wishing for school again, out of all things) and run into Kakyoin in the halls and sit at lunch together and walk to and from school together and hang out after classes and watch as a gaggle of girls crowd around him because Kakyoin was pretty and nice and charming—

He stood up abruptly.

“Is everything okay, JoJo?” His grandpa asked, standing up as well.

His hand was pried open and the gelato cup was removed and replaced with a damp cloth. His hand was sticky. Did he crush the gelato cup? He hadn’t liked it that much, anyway.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Jotaro said, clipped. He threw the used cloth over his shoulder and walked away. He felt too seen, too exposed.

“H-Hey, Jotaro, you can’t litter!” His grandpa shouted after him.

Jotaro ignored him. Shit. He didn’t remember the way to the hotel. He could wait for his grandpa, but he had enough of being perceived for the day (for the rest of his life, actually). The town wasn’t that big—if he kept walking, he’d run into a familiar place eventually and find his way back. Yes, that was what he’d do.

Mind made up, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stormed away.

・★・

The sun was just creeping below the horizon when Jotaro made it back to the hotel. He hadn’t gotten lost, per se, but it had taken him a while to get back. No—he didn’t get lost at all, actually. He knew where he was the entire time and was just wandering because he felt like it. In fact, he would’ve been back at the hotel within minutes if it wasn’t for that group of children that roped him into a football match. Even with his superior physical skills, they had given him a run for his money, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to walk away with anything less than an overwhelming victory so he had wasted a few hours there. As for the rest of the time…he wasn’t lost! He was just wandering. With a purpose. Of finding the hotel. Which he did find, in the end.

“Ah, JoJo! You’re back! We were worried you were attacked by an enemy Stand!” Polnareff shouted, jumping to his feet.

His grandpa, Abdul, and Polnareff were sitting at one of the tables in the hotel’s dining room. Jotaro would’ve liked to avoid them altogether, but he unfortunately had to pass through there to get to the stairs.

“What Stand could ever hope to harm me?” Jotaro huffed. (where was Kakyoin?)

“See? I told you he was fine—he just wanted to experience the area,” his grandpa chuckled, slapping Polnareff on his lower back. The Frenchman jumped with a yelp; he rubbed at his back as he inched closer to Abdul.

Abdul shook his head at their antics. “Have you eaten yet? We had dinner not too long ago—the kitchen might still be open.”

Jotaro shook his head. After schooling the children in football, they brought him to a stand and treated him to a meal (it certainly was a strange experience being paid for by kids half his size, but they were quite earnest and he wasn’t in the habit of saying no to free food).

“Where’s Kakyoin?” He asked and then winced internally. His eyes flickered over to his grandpa who was…acting normally? Huh. He really expected a shit-eating grin or a raised eyebrow or an obnoxiously obvious over-the-top wink.

“Ehhh, I think he went up to his room. Said something about wanting to get some reading done,” Polnareff answered, tilting his head thoughtfully, “He can be such a boring guy sometimes, right, JoJo? Instead of taking advantage of this gorgeous, moonlit night, he’s locking himself up in his room!”

Polnareff launched himself across the room and threw an arm around Jotaro’s shoulders. “So what do you think about us two, handsome, eligible bachelors hitting up the town instead? Find a nice bar, talk with some belles femmes, maybe get lucky~”

Jotaro shrugged his arm off. “I’m going to my room,” he said, his tone clipped.

“Ehh?! You too, Jotaro?” Polnareff exclaimed, nearly drowning out his grandpa’s and Abdul’s partings, “Tsk, I’ll just go by myself, then.”

Jotaro ignored him and went upstairs. Kakyoin would be in their room and he wouldn’t say or do anything weird. He’d greet him, shower, and go to bed. No sappy confessions, no sobering admittances, no startling revelations.

He fished the room key out of his pocket and opened the door. The room was empty. He cursed Polnareff in his heart (downstairs, Polnareff let out a hearty sneeze).

‘This is fine,’ Jotaro thought, resisting the urge to send Star Platinum out to snoop around, ‘I can shower and go to bed and bury this nonsense and see him in the morning with a clean slate.’

Jotaro grabbed his pajamas and stomped downstairs and out back to the public bath. There were a few other men there but no redheads. Which Jotaro was totally fine with. And because he was so fine with it, he was in and out of the bath in record time and it wasn’t because he was missing anyone in particular he just always bathed fast.

…maybe a little too fast. His hair was dripping wet, but drying it in his room was better than drying it surrounded by strangers, and that was why he left his towel around his neck. Still, it was a little annoying having to wipe away the water running down his face every two seconds—shit, he left his key in the room. Star Platinum partially phased out of his body and then stopped in place.

If he left his key in the room, how was the door locked?

Jotaro slowly took his hand off of the door handle. Anyone could have gotten inside—

The door opened. “Oh, JoJo. You’re back.”

It was Kakyoin, blinking up at him with a towel on his head and dressed in his pajamas that always made him seem more slender than he was.

“Uh, is everything okay? Ugh, you’re dripping water everywhere—are you going to dry it or do you need me to help you dry your hair?” Kakyoin half-scolded half-asked

“I like you,” Jotaro blurted out.

Jotaro stayed still long enough to see Kakyoin’s eyes begin to widen before yanking the door shut and running storming off. Star Platinum drifted behind him, his room key in its hand. Jotaro pounded knocked on his grandpa’s door as if he was being chased (he was, by his poor decisions) until it swung open.

“Jotaro? Is everything alright?” His grandpa asked, parroting his words from the early afternoon.

He didn’t say anything, but maybe the terrified energy hovering around him clued his grandpa in, because he stepped to the side and let him into the room.

“Abdul, do you mind stepping out of the room for a moment?” His grandpa’s words sounded more like an order than a question.

Abdul nodded, and within moments, Jotaro was alone in the room with his grandpa.

“So,” his grandpa started, collapsing back onto his bed, “do you want to tell your old man what’s going on or are you just going to stand there like a sad puppy left out in the rain?”

Jotaro didn’t move.

“Alrighty, then. Sad puppy in the rain it is,” his grandpa chuckled.

Jotaro looked away. This was a mistake—

“Let me guess—you accidentally confessed?”

He twitched in place and lowered his head. He wished he grabbed his hat so no one could see his face.

“Ah, my poor, cute, grandson,”

That made Jotaro scowl, and his scowl only deepened when an arm was thrown around his shoulder, pulling him into his grandpa’s side (when did he get up?).

“Listen, Jotaro, the best advice I can give you right now is man up and face the consequences of your actions. Confessing and running away? That’s putting yourself in a worse limbo than not confessing at all. You’ve already gotten through the hard part—all you have to do now is hear his response and figure out if you need to bury the hatchet or allow your mutual feelings to bloom,” his grandpa said.

“Mutual…feelings?” Jotaro mumbled.

“Hahaha, of course that’s the part that stuck out to you,” his grandpa laughed.

Mutual feelings. He…hadn’t even considered that. Why hadn’t he considered that? He was really cool and girls confessed their feelings for him all the time, so what was stopping a guy from confessing his feelings for him? Yeah, Kujo Jotaro was a cool, badass who anyone—shit, who was he kidding. He just ran away after confessing. He was awkward. And quiet. And he didn’t like being touched (his grandpa had moved back over to the bed, some time ago) or talked to but he also didn’t quite like being ignored. He liked a lot of foods but was also really picky about specific things and he rambled on and on when someone brought up the things that interested him and that wasn’t what a cool guy did at all. Cool guys were tough, mysterious, nonchalant. They smoked, drank, and did what they wanted and never let anyone boss them around. So he was at least… semi-cool? Did Kakyoin like semi-cool guys? Did Kakyoin even like guys? Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be doing something? Right!

“Mutual feelings,” he whispered to himself, a quiet reminder.

“Atta boy!” His grandpa said and Jotaro remembered he wasn’t alone in the room. And that it wasn’t his room in the first place.

“Whatever his answer is,” his grandpa continued, “Kakyoin at least doesn’t seem to be the type of person to be awkward about things, so don’t worry about it and go back there confidently! You’re the grandson of the one and only Joseph Joestar, after all. The Kujo Jotaro!”

Jotaro was…surprised. Yes, he honestly was surprised. Not only did his grandpa say “Kujo” instead of “Joestar,” but he said it the proper way. Surname then given name.

“Th-Thanks, gramps,” he mumbled and bolted before his grandpa tried to wrap him in another hug (he didn’t think he would’ve minded too much but he was feeling a little too high strung to risk it).

Jotaro was back in front of his room door before he knew it, key in hand. His hand was shaking. Now that he was paying attention, he could sense that Kakyoin was inside. It felt like he was on his side of the room. Jotaro sucked in a breath and opened the door.

Kakyoin was lying on his stomach on his bed, his knees bent and legs kicking lazily through the air. One hand propped up his head, the other held his book. When he noticed Jotaro, his hand fell away from his chin.

“Jotaro!” He said, scrambling to sit up.

Jotaro stepped into the room and Star Platinum closed and locked the door behind him.

Shit. He was pulling a blank. Why didn’t he prepare something to say before he stepped inside? Or he could just skip all of the trouble and go straight to bed and risk a cold by not drying his hair. No, that was running away and his grandpa just told him off for running away. But… fuck fuck fuck what was he supposed to do? What did you say after running away from someone after confessing? Was he actually in the wrong? Could he just say he was kidding and call it a night—no, that was running. Or he could just do what he was doing now and stare awkwardly glare at Kakyoin until he went back to his book—no no no, what would his mom want him to do?!

“JoJo~ whenever you do something wrong you should always apologize!”

“Sorry,” Jotaro blurted out, “for leaving.”

Kakyoin stumbled to his feet, his purple eyes wide and pretty like a pacific purple sea urchin—sharp and dangerous and he wanted to crack them open and eat him alive. Wait, no, no. He…he didn’t want to do that. What was he supposed to be doing again?

“I’m going to bed,” Jotaro said because he had enough of them awkwardly staring at each other and he already hit his limit of being perceived today a long time ago.

“W-Wait.” Kakyoin stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

Jotaro’s eyes dropped to the hand wrapped around his bicep. That hand with those long, slender fingers he liked watching snap into poses whenever Kakyoin called for his Stand.

“You forgot to dry your hair,” Kakyoin said.

“Could you dry it for me?”

Kakyoin looked up at him with some emotion in his eyes that he couldn’t place. Kakyoin’s hand never left his arm as he guided him over to his bed. It was strange—it was the same room as before but it somehow felt as though he was in a different place just because he was on Kakyoin’s half.

Kakyoin sat at the long edge of the bed and pulled Jotaro down until he was sitting between his legs, his back against the bed. His neck felt cold when Kakyoin removed the towel. Careful hands raked through his hair, drying it section by section.

“Would you like to hear about the book I’m reading?” Kakyoin asked quietly, “It’s fiction, this time, but it’s a mystery novel with a good plot.”

Jotaro didn’t know what to say. He wanted to hear Kakyoin talk—he hadn’t listened to him talk all day (well, not all day seeing as they parted ways after breakfast). He just…didn’t know how to say yes. He didn’t want to be as gruff cool as usual but wouldn’t it be too drastic of a change if he acted differently? Would Kakyoin tell he was agreeing if he just nodded? He was just going to nod.

Jotaro nodded and definitely did not hold his breath.

“Okay. Remember I haven’t finished it yet, so some parts are my hypotheticals. The novel starts when the protagonist, a…”

There was a smile on his face. Jotaro didn’t always know what emotions splayed across his face, but he could tell there was a smile on it. A small, genuine smile. His insides felt warm and it reminded him of when he was little and sandwiched between his parents as he went to bed. Kakyoin’s voice was soothing and his hands in his hair were soothing and the legs surrounding him were soothing and everything was right and nice. Jotaro’s eyes drifted shut and, for the first time today, he existed peacefully.

“...and that’s as far as I’ve read. Hmm, your hair’s dry now. Here.”

Jotaro’s eyes fluttered back open as a towel appeared in his periphery. Like molasses, he slowly reached out and grabbed it.

“Thanks,” he murmured, eyes slowly drifting back shut. Why did it feel like he was forgetting something important…shit! Jotaro bolted to his feet. He was supposed to go to sleep so he could avoid the consequences of his confession!

“Hold on, JoJo,” Kakyoin said, grabbing him by the arm again. Kakyoin tugged on him until Jotaro was mostly facing him. The hand on his arm felt hot. Kakyoin wasn’t looking at him. He was looking off to the side as if something on the floor was more interesting than him—wait. Kakyoin’s face was flushed. He looked pretty like that. He always looked pretty, though. It was just that the red on his face complemented the red of his hair and made him prettier. Jotaro kind of wanted to kiss him. What???

“D-Did…did you mean what you said earlier?” Kakyoin mumbled, “Because if it was just a stupid prank Polnareff put you up to—”

“I meant it,” Jotaro said, cutting him off, his own hang-ups be damned. He really hated being doubted.

Kakyoin inhaled sharply and his eyes (finally) snapped onto him. His cheeks were such a pretty red and his lip quivered and his eyes glistened and—

“You meant it?” He repeated softly.

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, even for you,” Jotaro couldn’t help but snap.

“R-Right. Th-Then you a-actually… like me? Like, like like me?” Kakyoin questioned, sounding absolutely bewildered.

Jotaro scowled. “Good grief. What are we, five?”

Kakyoin shook his head and his face somehow grew even redder. “N-No, it’s just that…I never thought…you could like me back…”

“...what was that?” Jotaro leaned closer to him and Kakyoin leaned away until he was half-propping himself up on the bed. He still hadn’t let go of Jotaro’s arm. His face was as red as his hair (pretty pretty pretty). He wasn’t looking at him anymore, his shaking eyes locked onto some point on the wall.

“I never thought you could like me back,” Kakyoin whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Jotaro blinked once. Twice. Three times. Did he stop breathing? Useless body, breathe! Wait, Kakyoin said—he had said, ”like him back”? Did that mean…Kakyoin liked him, too?

“Jo…taro?” Those pretty purple eyes slid back onto him and Kakyoin was biting his lip and fuck he looked so pretty.

Jotaro collapsed on top of him. Kakyoin let out a pained wheeze. “J-Jotaro, get off y-you’re too heavy!”

Jotaro scooped a hand under Kakyoin’s head and rolled over until they were on their sides, facing each other. Kakyoin’s face was still bright red. Was his face red? He couldn’t tell. He could tell he was smiling, though.

“You like me, too?” Jotaro whispered, because somehow it felt like he should be whispering.

“Hmph. You should know I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, even for you,” Kakyoin snipped, but he was smiling and his eyes were bright.

“Stupid idiot,” Jotaro said, but he was also smiling

“Redundant. Stupid idiot.”

“Dumbass.”

“Dumbass.”

“Ginger.”

Kakyoin laughed. “Good grief. What are we, five?”

Jotaro stuck out his tongue. Kakyoin stuck out his tongue, and before he could retract it, Jotaro closed the distance between them and licked it. Wait, the fuck did he just do? He felt just as shocked as Kakyoin looked and maybe it was time to have Star Platinum bury him in the ground so he’d never have to see anyone again. That was weird as fuck and Kakyoin was probably going to push him away any second now.

“Wait, can we get on the bed properly? It’s starting to hurt my back half-laying on it like this,” was what Kakyoin said instead.

Jotaro pulled Kakyoin into his arms and rolled all the way onto the bed. Kakyoin wriggled out of his arms and sat on top of him, right above his hips. His hands grabbed Kakyoin’s waist as if they had a mind of their own.

They stared at each other for a moment and it wasn’t…it wasn’t awkward. Kakyoin’s gaze was sweet, and warm, and the way he was smiling at him made his stomach tingle.

“Oof,” Jotaro grunted. Kakyoin dropped on him without warning, his chin resting on his pecs. If he were any closer, they’d probably go cross-eyed trying to stare at each other. Kakyoin’s hands were just barely cupping the sides of his face, his thumbs brushing against his cheekbones, and Jotaro decided he liked keeping his hands on Kakyoin’s waist.

“Jotaro.”

“Hmm?”

“JoJo~”

“What?” Jotaro scowled.

“Nothing,” Kakyoin giggled (giggled), “I just can’t believe you like me back.”

Jotaro opened his mouth. And then closed it. He was going to berate him, but he also went through an exhausting emotional ordeal the entire day because of his feelings, so he wasn’t going to make any comments. Pot and kettle and whatnot.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” He blurted out.

Kakyoin’s face flushed a deep red again. “Do you want to date me?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah.”

Somehow Kakyoin’s face got even redder. “O-Okay. I guess we’re dating, then.”

Great. This was the best possible outcome and he was really happy even though his heart felt like it was going a thousand miles a minute and he was fifty percent sure he’d startle himself awake and realize it was all a dream and he really really really wanted to kiss him—would Kakyoin mind if he kissed him? Wait, didn’t his mom talk to him about this when he got his growth spurt?

“JoJo, you always have to ask first before you do anything! You can’t take someone else’s snack because you want to eat it!”

Okay, maybe the advice wasn’t about kisses but he felt like it could be extrapolated to it.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

Kakyoin’s face grew impossibly red (he wondered again if his own face was red). “Sure.”

A beat. “Do you even know how to kiss, Mr. I-don’t-like-anyone?” Kakyoin teased, “Oh. I guess you do like me.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jotaro smirked, and he (regretfully) moved his hands from Kakyoin’s waist to his face and pulled him closer until he could tilt his head and kiss him. Kakyoin, unfortunately, was right, and Jotaro did not know how to kiss. However, he had great instinct and was a quick learner so he was confident he’d pick it up fast. It was just kissing, after all. Besides, he doubted Kakyoin had much more experience, either (if any).

He could feel Kakyoin smile against his lips before he pulled back. Starry purple eyes stared down at him, narrowed and seductive (he was so pretty Jotaro wanted to eat him alive—um?).

“Relax a little, JoJo,” Kakyoin murmured fondly, his thumbs brushing a soothing pattern against his face again (he was wrong, Kakyoin definitely had more experience than him).

“Relax?”

“Mhm,” Kakyoin didn’t give him a chance to ask for clarification because his lips were on his again and they were soft and pillowy and smelled like cherries. “You have to be gentle until you get the hang of it,” Kakyoin instructed against his lips (Jotaro loved that feeling), “Like it’s a dance.”

The only part of him dancing at the moment was his stomach because it was currently doing backflips like it was competing for the world record. Kakyoin was so malleable, doing whatever Jotaro wanted, turning his head this way or that and he wanted to taste—

Jotaro moved back just enough to lick Kakyoin’s lips.

“Impatient,” Kakyoin huffed, but he licked his lips right back and his tongue was in his mouth and he tasted like toothpaste and artificial cherries and he liked that combination more than he thought he would.

Kakyoin’s mouth was hot and wet and all the saliva was kind of messing with his head in a not-so-nice way but it was Kakyoin and he strangely wanted more, so his fingers tangled in Kakyoin’s hair and pulled him closer. Kakyoin made a small sound against his mouth that he swallowed up and wanted more of so he tugged his hair again and he heard it again—a soft, delectable moan.

Kakyoin bit his lip—it was more of a light nip, really—and pulled away. His lips were shiny and pink and slightly swollen and he could see a strand of saliva stretch between them before it snapped and a small sound came from the back of his own throat.

“I’m almost upset at how fast of a learner you are,” Kakyoin chuckled.

Jotaro scratched his scalp and preened at the way Kakyoin leaned back into his touch, his eyes fluttering until they were semi-closed. “Don’t be. I just have a really good teacher,” Jotaro said, his voice strangely low and gravelly.

Kakyoin laughed again and placed a quick peck on his lips. “You do, don’t you?”

Jotaro couldn’t help but pout scowl. Just a peck? He wouldn’t stand for that. He pulled Kakyoin back down and licked his mouth back open. There was something about kissing him that made his brain fuzzy and happy in all the right ways and sent tingles all over his body even though objectively it should be disgusting. Sure, he just learned how to kiss a few minutes ago but licking into his mouth and pulling those noises from him was addicting. And if he cracked open his eyes just a smidgen, he could see those dusky eyelashes fluttering against those flushed cheeks in such a pretty way.

All too soon, Kakyoin pulled away again. Actually, his head felt a little light and his lungs a little empty so maybe it wasn’t so soon and a good thing he pulled back. Getting air back in the lungs never hurt anybody, especially when they can kiss again after—

“Ah, ah, ah,” Kakyoin chided gently, for once not going with Jotaro’s gentle tugging. “It’s late, JoJo. We’re leaving early in the morning and you know you get grumpy when you don’t get enough sleep.”

Jotaro pouted scowled. “I’m going to be grumpy if you stop kissing me.” Saying that made his face feel warm but it needed to be said—he wanted the kisses he was owed.

“Don’t be like that, JoJo,” Kakyoin chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth and then in a ticklish trail down his jaw. He pressed a firm, final kiss to the side of his neck and Jotaro’s hands flew to Kakyoin’s waist, a quiet, startled moan falling from his lips.

All he could do was stare at Kakyoin wide-eyed as he pulled away from his neck, his lips curled into a devious smile and his eyes hooded and Jotaro wanted him so badly because who cared about sleeping anyway?

“If you want, you can stay here?” Kakyoin offered tentatively.

“Yeah,” Jotaro responded instantly, desperately. His voice sounded slightly raspier than normal. That wasn’t fair. Kakyoin sounded the same as ever—maybe he was slightly out of breath, but it wasn’t as noticeable of a difference as Jotaro’s.

“H-Hey, s-stop doing that.” Oh. Now Kakyoin sounded flustered. What did he want him to stop doing? All he was doing was…massaging Kakyoin’s hips. Jotaro stopped.

“Do you not like that?” He asked.

“I-It’s not that I don’t like it, it's that we have to go to bed,” Kakyoin said. The faint outline of Hierophant Green’s tentacles appeared behind his back and within a moment, the light in the room was shut off. Jotaro squeezed Kakyoin’s hip.

“Jotaro,” Kakyoin hissed, “Behave yourself or I’ll kick you out.”

He almost wouldn’t mind that because it was starting to get hot with Kakyoin on top of him even if they weren’t under the covers but he liked being pressed against him even more than the stickiness the heat would inevitably bring, so he’d behave. Probably.

“Good night, Jotaro. Behave.”

“Good night, Kakyoin.”

Jotaro squeezed his hip again.

・★・

The morning brought grogginess and grumpiness but Jotaro wasn’t as annoyed as he could’ve been because he woke up with his face pressed into soft hair that smelled like aloe and woody tobacco and something mildly citrusy. Kakyoin’s face was nestled against the crook of his neck and he could feel every breath he took, a light fluttery feeling against his collarbone, and their chests rising and falling in sync. Their legs were intertwined and one of his arms was asleep from Kakyoin laying on it all night but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not even the gross semi-stickiness that clung to his skin could ruin this moment for him.

“Kakyoin, we have to get up,” Jotaro said quietly. He pulled away until he could see Kakyoin’s face scrunch up in discontent since his heater was moving. Unlike him, Kakyoin seemed to like being egregiously warm. Which was fine, because he ran hot.

Purple eyes fluttered open and looked up at him through long, straight lashes. “Now you want to get up, huh? We’re probably late because of you.”

“Huh?”

Kakyoin wiggled out of his grasp and sat up, stretching languidly like a cat (pretty). Part of his shirt rode up and Jotaro could see the barest sliver of skin. He wanted to kiss it.

“I tried waking you up earlier but you were dead to the world,” Kakyoin explained, “It seems that the only way to wake you up is to roll you out of bed like normal, and I’m afraid I can’t do that while trapped in your arms.”

“I’ll wake up next time,” Jotaro blurted out, propping himself up on his elbows. He just found out how nice it was to sleep with Kakyoin in his arms and now he was supposed to go back to sleeping separately? As if!

Kakyoin smiled at him fondly. “If you say so, JoJo. Now move so we can get downstairs. They probably started breakfast without us.”

Jotaro rolled out of bed and the process of changing, repacking his clothes, and getting ready to leave was the same as ever yet so different. He felt even more aware of Kakyoin than ever, especially when they went to brush their teeth and Kakyoin kept bumping into his side and it didn’t make him mad it just made his heart race beat a little faster.

When they finally entered the dining hall, luggage in hand, the rest of their group was already seated around a table with two empty chairs side by side.

“JoJo, Kakyoin! It’s about time!” Abdul scolded as they sat down.

“We were starting to get worried a Stand user got to you!” Polnareff said, “I wanted to check on you guys but Mr. Joestar said you were probably getting your beauty sleep because you were out wandering all night and that Kakyoin was too nice to wake you up, JoJo~”

Jotaro side-eyed his grandpa who was unfortunately seated on his left.

“I couldn’t help but worry about my precious grandson, you know? How would I face Holly and Suzie if I brought him back all sleep-deprived?” His grandpa joked in that overly-dramatic tone of his that Jotaro hated. “There won’t be a next time, though. You two better get down here in time or else you’ll be in for a rude awakening!”

“Hahaha, yes, Mr. Joestar,” Kakyoin said, and he pinched (pinched) Jotaro’s side underneath the table.

Jotaro scowled at his plate because he couldn’t scowl at Kakyoin without giving anything away. And then he felt his grandpa poke him and he could glare at his grandpa so he did just that. His eyes slid from his grandpa’s face, who was talking to Abdul as if he didn’t do anything, to the open hand under the table.

Jotaro’s face twitched. He willed his face back into neutrality. “Thanks, I guess, grandpa,” he grumbled, reluctantly completing the high-five.

His grandpa flinched, and for a moment, Jotaro almost thought he did something wrong until his grandpa let out a boisterous laugh.

“I have a feeling that today’s going to be a great day, gentlemen! We’re going to finish this journey strong, just you wait!” His grandpa shouted. The scant amount of people at the other tables looked over at them weirdly but Jotaro had built up immunity to the constant stares his group’s antics often invited.

“Yeah, our enemies won’t know what hit them!” Polnareff said

“Today has the makings of an auspicious day,” Abdul agreed with a smile

“We’re going to make it to Egypt, no matter what,” Kakyoin nodded.

“It’s time to put those bastards in their place,” Jotaro said, dipping his head down so his hat covered his face but it couldn’t quite cover the smile blooming across it.

For once, since they started on this trip, Jotaro actually felt optimistic about braving the day. Abdul and Polnareff were still his maybe-hopefully-friends and his grandpa was his grandpa (and maybe still as cool as ever), but Kakyoin was now…Kakyoin. And something more. A tangible emotion that he couldn’t quite name but that was okay because at least he could grasp it and hold it and know it wanted to hold him back.

Today was going to be a good day.

(It was. The next day, however, was as chaotic and troublesome as ever, but that was okay, too.)

・★・